Carnage
by LegionInfinity
Summary: What made people like this? Everyone has the capacity to kill, but how you live with yourself afterwards determines who you are. Do you feel relief? Grief? Or do you feel nothing at all? She was breaking. It had finally been too much for her. She wasn't sure if they had gotten out, but she wasn't sure she would. The carnage was too much, the blood was everywhere.


**Okay, I know I disappeared and my only excuse is school. I know this is probably not the story you wanted to see updated, but it is once again that time of year. My favorite time of year where I can dress up, eat candy, and be anyone but myself. And in honor of that season, I'm doing a Countdown to Halloween One-Shot week! Yay! Every day, I will have up a new one-shot that relates to Halloween up until the actual day, when you will get the story I have been working on for weeks. And don't worry, I have a four day weekend this week, so I plan on having an update for Savage and hopefully The Origin of the Silver Ninja of Energy by next Friday. Thank you so much for putting up with all my crap! I love you all!**

**Just a warning, this story does include a bit of mild to severe (depends on your view) violence, gore, and all out confusion. Don't worry, tomorrows story is much cuter ****.**

•••

The drip was steady and loud, amplified by the natural echo through the large, open space. Aryan wished she couldn't hear it. She wished that it was completely silent. The sound kept her from hearing things, a heartbeat, shallow breathing, footsteps. She ran her tongue across her lips, immediately regretting her decision as she tasted the raw blood. There wasn't a part of her that wasn't covered in it. The vat had broken her fall, but it hadn't helped the countless others that met a worse fate. She could still feel their rotting skin and hair as she clambered out, trying to ignore the ever-present feeling that they were trying to pull her back in. The vat had been a blessing as well, covering her in the stench of old blood and the bloated bodies that lied within. The dogs he had sent after her couldn't tell her from the deceased.

She had not come to this hellhole alone. She had come with four others, but had gotten separated in the struggle. He had created his private "wonderland" well, each twist and turn, each blood covered surface carefully placed to ensure any visitors would slowly slip into a bought of insanity. They were easier to catch that way.

Aryan, however, had always been quite good with matters of the fragile state we called our sanity. She had seen every trick before, she had dealt with his kind. It was she alone who stood her ground when one ran off in an undetermined direction, screaming words and phrases that meant nothing. The others ran after him, she did not, and for that she paid. She wasn't sure if they had gotten out, but she wasn't sure she would. The overpowering smell of iron and salt was making her woozy, and she couldn't escape it. It was everywhere.

Huddled in the corner of the basement, Aryan strained her ears against the drip, trying to hear anything else. Her head was pounding against the front of her skull. She wasn't sure how much of it she could take.

What made people like this? Everyone has the capacity to kill, but how you live with yourself afterwards determines who you are. Do you feel relief? Grief? Or do you feel nothing at all? Aryan had killed people before, but she carried every life she took like baggage, and had spent years trying to make up for it. This man was some kind of monster. Aryan was unsure where he had even found this many people. They were dead, tortured, cooked. What level of suffering did he endure to commit this horror of a crime?

Aryan heard a noise come from the far side of the room, the sound of chains being pushed aside. She pushed herself into the corner, trying to make herself smaller, invisible. As she squeezed her eyes shut, she became painfully aware of the buzzing in her foot. The inactivity had caused it to become practically useless in the moment, a phenomenon known as "falling asleep". The buzz had brought Aryan back to reality. What was she doing, hiding like a child? This man, he was nothing more than that. A man. To him, she was a god.

Pulling her hands away from her body, she allowed them to ignite with the energy that surged through her body. Taking a shaky breath, she stood up, letting the chains above her rattle with the contact of her head. She shivered as a warm and soft hand slid from one of the chains, down her shoulder, and onto the ground with a liquid-sounding thud. No noise came from her mouth, only the slow buzz of her power joined by the drip. She stepped over the dislocated arm, careful of the fresh puddle of blood it had created. No sooner had she cleared the scene of the mishap that she felt a sudden shift in the air behind her. Before she had time to react, a warm hand was covering her mouth and pulling her back into the darkness.

She tried to fight, but she feared more than she fought. The only thought that currently occupied her mind was the thought of the fallen arm, come back to exact its revenge on the living. The area around her back got warmer as she was pushed into a hard barrier, letting out a silent sigh of relief as another arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her in place.

"Don't scream." There was a pause. "Or blast my head off." The voice was hot and heavy in her ear, reminding her of the decimated remains around her, but she couldn't help but relax in his arms. Thought the voice was distorted by fear and grief, she still recognized it. As he slowly removed his hand, she couldn't help but turn and throw her arms around his neck.

"Kai," she said quietly, "thank goodness you're okay." Kai quietly laughed, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight, but only for a moment before he again let go.

"You smell foul." He whispered to her. She rolled her eyes, though his mask exposed nothing but his eyes, she could tell he was smiling. She had long ago lost hers, but a layer of blood and grime across her eyes still hid her identity from the lost souls that wandered. She gathered her crusty hair into a bun on the back of her head with a satisfying crunch, letting her now freely moving strands of hair fall back down.

"Well," Aryan whispered back, "you try falling one hundred feet into a sewer filled with blood and discarded bodies." She almost laughed, but then she remembered the pain previously in his voice, the same she saw reflected in his eyes. She screwed her face into the serious one she had been carrying around to hide her fear. "Who's dead?" She asked him, trying to remove the emotion. Kai lowered his eyes.

"Jay," he mumbled, "and Zane." With one word, Aryan felt what was left of her hope collapse. Pressing her back against the slimy stone wall, she buried her face in her hands, pressing her palms hard into her eyes, as if the action would wake her from a bad dream. "I'm unsure about Cole." Kai said, ending the unfinished thought about their fourth companion.

"Damn it." Aryan mumbled under her breath. And that was all she could say on the matter. Nothing but a curse and a silent death threat issued towards a man who probably had thousands piled up against him. She was ready to fulfill all of them, but a labored noise echoed through the room, covering her heroic thoughts back up with a veil of fear. She felt a tickle in her ear as she pulled herself deeper into the darkness.

"Go." Kai whispered hurriedly in her ear. She turned towards his voice, as he himself seemed to have disappeared.

"What the hell do you mean?" She asked him. "You're coming too."

"No." He cut Aryan off. "It's too late for me." Aryan felt her mouth fall open in irritation.

"That's like getting a cough and saying you're dying of pneumonia." Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Calm down, drama queen." The footsteps were getting louder and closer.

"Aryan." Kai hissed though his teeth.

"Kai." Aryan taunted through hers.

"This isn't a joke, Aryan." He said to her. "They cannot know about any of this." Aryan nearly collapsed at his words. They cannot know about any of this. She took a step away from his voice, towards the light that filtered in through the grimy windows.

"How far gone are you?" She asked quietly, the hairs standing up on her neck as she anticipated the behind assault. She looked around the empty room for any sign of aging. She turned back towards the darkness. "How long have we been in here?" Her voice raised to a shout.

"Shhhh." He said to her as something sticky and warm wrapped around her mouth, a bittersweet smell filled her nose. "It will all be over soon." The voice whispered as he pulled her back towards the wall, into the dark.

•••

The light behind her eyelids caused pulled the darkness away like the dawn. The murmurs of many voiced filled her ears like a welcoming buzz. The words began to get louder and louder, and she became aware of everything that was going on, the lights, the cool and scratchy material being pulled around her sore skin, the breathing mask pressed against her face. The muddled voiced began to make more sense, the lips in front of her began to form words.

"Aryan? Can you hear me?" Aryan groaned, covering her eyes with her hands, now clean of the blood they previously housed. She tried to sit up, but many hands pushed her back down onto the gurney.

"What happened?" Aryan asked, her voice distorted by the mask.

"It's alright, dear." The woman above her whispered. "You're safe now." She smoothed her hair, slick from soap. Aryan swatted her hair away and sat up, pushing away the hands that tried to put her back down. She grabbed the clear mask and pulled it off her face. The air was crisp and clean, and incredibly thick. Aryan began to choke on the air, her lungs refusing to accept it. Her head was forced backwards as the mask was pressed against her face, the elastic pulled over her hair. The air became thin and breathable again.

"Aryan!" A familiar voice yelled, pulling her thoughts away from her gasping breaths. She barely had time to turn before she was tackled by many people at once. She took a short breath of surprise, causing her to cough and the people around her to pull away. Zane ran his thumb along her hairline, brushing away what was left of the dirt on her face. Aryan narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"Zane?" She asked, her eyes flitting around to the other faces, ones she knew so well. Cole. Jay. Nay. Lloyd. Even Kai. Aryan was at a loss for words, but she managed to spit some out. "But…" She trailed off, unsure what to say next. With a shaky finger, she pointed towards the fallen building before her, broken and beaten beyond repair. "Who caused the…the carnage that littered that place?"

"Aryan?" Zane sounded concerned, concerned for her. Her physical wounds, and her sanity. "Whatever you saw in there, it was all in your own mind."

"Mr. Julien!" Said the female EMT, who sounded almost appalled. "I said ease her gently!"

"Yeah, well," started Jay, stepping ahead, "she's never really been 'gentle' with us." He said, his sarcastic air quotes hurting a bit. He turned his attention towards Aryan. "Look, we sent you to go find a man who was dealing heroin on the streets, and he forced you to inhale the fumes and you were missing," Jay paused, "for three days."

"We thought you were dead." Cole added suddenly. Aryan stared ahead intently, her small fingers finding the corner of her eyes. She was breaking. It had finally been too much for her. She felt a cold hand on her shoulder.

"That is enough." Said the EMT, her voice echoing through the sounds of sirens and talking. All attention turned toward her. "Now, you will either take her home without another word or I will take her."

No one said anything as they loaded into the car, putting extra air tanks into the trunk as they arranged her current one comfortably in between her legs. As they began to pull away from the lights and her insanity, Aryan caught a glimpse of another gurney being pushed out of the basement, containing two half-filled body bags. Aryan slammed her head into the head restraint, closing her eyes as the tears streamed down her face. Nobody pointed it out. No one asked if she was alright, and she was fine with that. As she rolled her head towards the window and stared out at the passing tree enveloped in early morning light, she couldn't help but count the beatings of her heart. She had killed that man, but he was different than the others.

For him, she felt nothing.


End file.
